


Stuck With You (Like A Bad Tattoo)

by Advocate_267



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Bonding, F/M, Knowhere (Marvel), Kraglin being sad, Kragula, Nebula attempting to be nice, Oneshot, Past Kragdu, Post-Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, piecings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-12 22:04:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19237990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Advocate_267/pseuds/Advocate_267
Summary: Nebula did not require company; She'd spent this long on her own and was still functioning well enough to be considered alive. However she was not so proud to not act on an opportunity when it arose. The man was handy when it came to ships, skilful with a range of weapons and promised to be quiet. That made him useful, a free asset she’d be a fool to shove off.Nebula was beginning to doubt that last point.





	Stuck With You (Like A Bad Tattoo)

**Author's Note:**

> I got an industrial piercing recently and while browsing jewellery I came across a cute arrow. It made me think of Yondu’s yaka arrow and BOOM fic idea. 
> 
> Title comes from the song Bad Tattoo by Hedley.

Nebula’s had enough.

She's had enough of a lot of things, actually. Like the incompetence of every supposed informant she'd threatened to the point of emotional scarring, the declining state of her ship after one too many hostile run-ins and not to mention the fact that _still_ had no solid leads on Thanos. These were all inconveniences, things that pricked at her patience and got her irritation running, but could eventually be solved. It just took a bit of effort and intimidating the right people. But above all, the biggest thing grating on every last of her nerves, was her fluky partner in crime.

 Kraglin; Former Ravager, fierce space punk, current carrier of the Yaka arrow. And a titanic piece of work.

When her time to leave the guardians came around Nebula gave the former-first mate a casual offer. He was like her, an outcast, a misfit-among-misfits, and he was hurting deeply. Peter, no, _Captain Quill_ , was instant on his offers for Kraglin to stay, just like her sister was, however Nebula knew she could never stand living in such close proximity with the being she'd spent so long imagining dead. Not yet, not when she had a mission to attend to.

Kraglin was the same. A castaway, the last survivor of a mutiny of his own causing. He was also laden with guilt and a star cruiser through-and-through. He had come to an understanding with Quill, long overdue, and both finally had a mutual respect for each other, but he was no guardian, proclaimed it himself. The stars called and he needed to default, for his own and everybody else's sanity.

Nebula did not require company; She'd spent this long on her own and was still functioning well enough to be considered alive. However she was not so proud to not act on an opportunity when it arose. The man was handy when it came to ships, skilful with a range of weapons and promised to be quiet. That made him useful, a free asset she’d be a fool to shove off.

Nebula was beginning to doubt that last point.  

They'd been cruising together for a few month-cycles, taking various bounty jobs and hunting down any dirt she can find on her bastard ex-father figure. Kraglin lived up to his promise, doing his bit as required. Navigating, ship maintenance, watching her back, yet everything was sloppy and underlined with trembling lips and watery eyes. He’d hide it, keep it locked until he could scour some privacy, but Nebula knew.

She confronted him. After their third mission was almost compromised by his inattentiveness, furious and insensitive like she’d be taught to be. Nebula didn’t know how he took the telling-off, slunk away to sulk afterwards. The next day she noticed a few tidy dents in the hold wall and his knuckles mysteriously busted open.

Aside from the compulsory conversation between them was kept minimal. When she wasn't piloting Nebula retreated to her private bunk, pad in hand, scouring the records for their next target. Occasionally she'd catch him through the ship, either staring blankly off into the stars or practising with the arrow. 

He'd suffered a big loss, she too had once, a long time ago, been familiar with the feeling. But she had eventually got over it, needed to for her own survival, and it was time her resident ravager did the same before he cost them another score.

Nebula expected all he'd need was a bit of encouragement. She had a plan, one that involved her least favourite place this side of the galaxy: Knowhere. Loud, smelly, crime-infested Knowhere. It was the perfect destination for cheering up a mourning space pirate.

After carefully docking Nebula made her way down to the cargo hold, a favourite haunt of his, she'd come to notice. As expected she found Kraglin sat cross-legged on the floor, a pad in his lap and a few crusty tissues scattered around him.

"We're making a stop on Knowhere." She informed him firmly, hands on her hips. "It's been a while and I think we could use a...break." Not something she was familiar with but hey, she'd try if it would fix her charge. Kraglin looked up at her and Nebula could see the dark puffiness of his eyes. He'd been weeping again. Goddamnit.

"You wanna take a break?" His voice is quite, cracking with his usual twang. Nebula nods.

"Yes, just an evening. Thought you'd want to get out for a bit, clear your head." At that she poked the implant, once Yondu's, now stuck atop Kraglin's cranium. He winces as the contact makes it flare up, a little glitch rocket hadn't been able to fix.

“Oh, sure. That sounds...nice.” He didn't perk up quite as much as Nebula hoped at the news, placing his pad to the side and swiping his nose on his sleeve. "But didn't ya wanna hit that moon next, talk to that guy ya said had somethin' dirty on thanos?"

"That can wait. Tonight we will relax and have fun."

Nebula ignored how odd that sounded coming from her and grabbed Kraglin's hand, pulling him up. He wasn't ready and floundered for footing, pad punted across the floor. Nebula didn't wait for him to retrieve it, dragging him stuttering towards the exit ramp.

 "Well, uh, if you insist."

 "I do."

 

* * *

 

 The streets of Knowhere where just as she recalled; busy, gross and all round unpleasant. Nebula put off the urge to rip a hole through the next person who elbowed her and focused on Kraglin. She hadn't let go of his wrist, pulling him along like a particularly reckless child. He didn't protest to the manhandling, keeping up a steady stumble to match her march.

He did utter a few "Where we goin', ma-am?" which Nebula didn't answer. Surprises were meant to lift spirits, right?

Nebula also knew that edible goods, things she had no requirement for but could enjoy nevertheless, were also a good source of happiness for most beings.

They stopped at a food cart first, one selling an array of oddly twisted snacks. They smelled a lot better than most of the things on offer here, in Nebula's opinion. Obfonteri must have thought so too, as his eyes lit up hungrily upon getting within smelling distance. She fought her way to the front and gained the attention of the server.

She chose a basic looking one, toasted brown and dusted in some sort of flavouring. Kraglin was eyeing up a twist stuffed with some kind of sweet substance. When he tried to dig around in his pocket for payment Nebula beat him to it, stuffing a few unit sticks in the server's tentacle. 

They retreated to a concrete wall to consume their snacks. Nebula didn't need to eat, a perk of her cybernetic insides, but she picked at the bread-like twist regardless, munching quietly. She peeked at Kraglin to make sure he was enjoying his treat.

Oh-no. The ravager was staring out at nothing, a single bite taken out the twist. Nebula poked his side.

"Do you not like it?" She asked, pointing to his hardly-touched snack. "I can get you something else."

"No-no. It's jus’," and here came the sigh, complete with slumped shoulders and a downwards smile. "Ah remember when me an' Yondu brought Quill here for tha’ first time. He turned his nose up at practically everythin' we shoved under ‘til Yondu told him to go find his own grub. Boy shot off and got himself one of these, called 'em 'alien pretzels'. Made us try too. Yondu liked 'em so much he cleared the owner out, without payin', obviously. Hid 'em all in his room. Was finding crumbs in the bed fer ages."

Whoops, guess that hadn't been the right move. Nebula pushed her twist away, it was too chewy for her tastes anyway, and got up from the wall. She grabbed Kraglin's wrist, tugging him to their next destination.

Second on Nebula’s mental list of ‘things to get Kraglin to stop acting like a basket case’ was a pleasure activity. Ravagers sure liked those, particularly if they involved loud buildings and copious amounts of booze. She picked a nearby gambling ring. That had to be better at cheering him up, what with it’s wild atmosphere and the smell of money in the air.

"What're we doin' here, Neb?" Kraglin asked, looking around uncertain. 

“Would you like to gamble?”

“Well....”

“Here.” Nebula shoved a loaded unit stick in his hand. “Go play a few rounds. I’ll be at the bar.”

He looked hesitant but did as she said, muttering a ‘thanks’ before approaching one of the betting machines.

Nebula, satisfied her partner was busy sorting out his sadness, strode off to find refreshment. This must have been a good joint, the building piled with tourists and miners alike. Despite that Nebula didn’t have trouble garnering attention from the barman, a sharp look all it took.

She sipped at the beverage. Fortunately (or unfortunately in some cases) Nebula couldn’t get drunk. The drink was more for show than anything, something to keep her hands busy and her head cool while Kraglin entertained himself.

She scans the crowd for him, just to make sure he’s making an effort and not run off with her units. Those were gifted for one purpose and one purpose only: betting. Hell was she letting him get a hold of drugs. Ciggies and booze were one thing, but high end narcotics would make him even more difficult to deal with than already. Nebula could deal with a emotional drunk, but a junkie was beyond her patience levels.

She catches him popping into the mens across the room. Nebula keeps an eye on the door, watching as males of various species filter in and out. Fifteen minutes pass and Kraglin’s still not emerged. Nebula frowns over the glass rim. Either he has serious bowel issues or something worse was at foot here.

“Krutack.” She swears, abandoning her drink and marching to the loos. The door’s booted hard enough to crack the wall when it swings open, startling the guys inside. A guttural growl has them fleeing across the slippery floor, some even before their flies were zipped.

Nebula’s attention drifts to the one occupied stall, a pair of familiar boots just visible under the door. Her senses can't pick up the telling signs of drug use, just clogged drains and sharp disinfectant. The sounds inside however were unmistakable: sobbing.

“Kraglin!” With a strong _thwack_ she kicked in the door.

Kraglin’s sobs turning into a yelp at the interruption. It was a good thing he actually took advantage of the facilities at hand before his breakdown, otherwise his leathers would be soiled with more than planet matter.

As it was he just screamed, almost falling in the bowl in shock.

“N-nebs...what the-?!”

Her expression was thunderous, taking in his tear-streaked face with little symphony. "That does it."

"Ow! Hey!" Kraglin squawked as he was grabbed by the ear, pulled unceremoniously out the stall. He had to hop on one leg to keep up with Nebula's furious stride. Once outside she threw him against the nearest wall, thrusting her face nose-to-nose with his.

"If I buy you something will you stop this."

Kraglin could only gape, dumbfounded, rattled and a little freaked out. "Uh, what?"

Nebula scoffed. "I'm tired of your constant moping. It's distracting and interfering with our progress. Nothing I've tried so far has worked so I'm proposing to buy you a gift to cheer you up."

It was her last resort, a final bid before declaring it a lost cause and leaving Kraglin to launder here.   

His fear melts, confusion glowing in his bloodshot eyes. "...You wanna get me a pressie?"

"Yes. Something...nice."

That made Kraglin’s lips twitch, cautious and faint. "Like a purty necklace?"

"Necklace, trinket, whatever you want. Now come along." Nebula released her grip on Kaglin's shoulder and thrust him down the street. "You have two hours to decide. Any longer and I'll leave you on this mud ball."

Kraglin followed the fierce woman along the street, musing on her offer. The only ones who'd ever got him a gift before was Yondu (even then said gifts were always left anonymously on his bunk, but he knew very well their origin) and Quill with the recent arrow-entrustment.

It stung ever time he thought of blue skin and red leather, of his mistakes prior to his captain’s passing, but Nebula’s sharp words were a wake up call, like the slap of cold when exiting the ship on Contraxia. Maybe he was being a bit obsessive. It wasn't healthy and just like Nebula said, he was about as useful as a dead moomba like that. Yondu never liked it when he moped. He'd call him a 'sorry-lookin' weasel' then resolve to snort spirits to make him laugh. It always worked like a charm.

Now he didn't have Yondu to cheer him up but he did have Nebula, once again someone going out of their comfort zone to do something nice. 

Her gesture wouldn’t heal the wound, but maybe it could dull the ache, just for a little while.

So they waltzed the streets, browsing market stalls and popping in and out of stores for anything of interest.

"If you told me what you’re looking for then I could accelerate our search." Nebula said with a hint of exasperation. They'd just spent fifteen minutes meandering around a cluttered junker store to zero results and she was getting annoyed. Every time she stumbled upon something a dirty pirate might like, high end booze, fancy knives, exotic porn magazines, Kraglin would dismiss them, proclaiming that they "weren't special enough." That just wound Nebula up more. He'd just brushed off one of the most destructive blasters she'd ever laid hands on!

Likewise, Kraglin shrugged off her offer. "Nah, I'll know it when I see it."

"Yes, after a week of crawling through trash. It's been an hour and a half. What is so hard about this?"

"It's jus'..." Now he looked uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot. "I know but it's...I just gotta find the right thing."

"And what would you class as the ‘right’ thing?"

He was starting to get a bit blue in the face. "It's kinda personal...sentimental shit."

"I won't judge."

Kraglin's gaze snapped to her face. Nebula's eyes were as blank and black as normal but held an odd amount of genuine emotion. It stirred a bunch of unknown feelings in his chest, something he hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. She'd come a long way over the last few months, now it was his turn.

"Well if ya really gotta know...I’m lookin' for somethin’ to remember the captain...Yondu by. You know, keep ‘im close." Kraglin looked at the ground. He smiled awkwardly. "That sounds so, as Quill would put it, ultra cheesy."

"No it isn't." Nebula said bluntly. Her emotion didn't extent to her voice but her expression spoke volumes. "He meant a lot to you, if the tears and snot are any indication. It is understandable you feel inclined to honour that bond."

"You have no idea." Kraglin was getting a little choked up again, eyes lidded and fingers brushing the arrow holster at his hip. Nebula wanted to avoid another round of waterworks so quickly hooked her arm under Kraglins and began leading him further into the city.  

"Let's check the town centre. I'm sure they'll have something to fit that description."

 

* * *

 

Kraglin had perked up a bit since parading around with Nebula. They were a funny sight, six foot of leather-wearing ravager and an equally tall murderous assassin strolling the alley. At least people gave them a wide breadth, allowing them to browse in a leisurely fashion.

"Hold up!"

Nebula halted. They were outside a glass-fronted store, a red flashing arrow directing them to the door.

Kraglin pressed his face against the glass. He scanned a display and Nebula watched as his face practically lit up. "That's it." He suddenly turned to her, excitement obvious. "I found what I want."

"Good." She passed him a unit stick and shoved him towards the entrance. "Now hurry up and get it."

 As Kraglin entered Nebula hadn't actually noted what the store dealt in, instead choosing to lean against the wall and tinker with the inner workings of her latest hand. When he emerged ten minutes later he was grinning like an idiot but wasn't holding any obvious purchases.

Nebula felt a smidgen of dread as she questioned "Didn't they have what you wanted?"

"Oh they had it alright." He turned his head. Punctured through the top of his ear was a shiny silver arrow.

"A piercing?"

"Yep. Capt'n always had a thing about 'em, got a ton in his ears when we was younger. Never really thought about gettin' one meself but..." He trailed off, face alight with the first genuine smile Nebula had actually seen. “When ah saw this ah know I had to get it. Hurt way less than the last time too."

"That's not your first piercing?" She asked offhand, scrutinising his face.

"Nope."

"I don't see any others." 

raglin laughed awkwardly. "Well, bit of a funny story that. Got shitfaced on Contraxia once and got dared into having my nipples pierced. Only thing I remember is the stingin'." He winced. "Was gonna let 'em close up but captain took a shine to 'em and, well..."

"I don't need to know the details.” Nebula put a hand over his mouth. “Let’s get back to the ship, I’m sick of this place. "

 Kraglin grinned, obeying.

* * *

 "Y'know, Nebs." Kraglin was sprawled in the co-pilot's chair, bottle in hand, stroking his new piecing fondly. "I'm actually kinda likin' this whole ear piecing thing."

"Good.” Nebula spoke from her position up front. “I'm glad it all worked out and we can get on with our next target."

"I think I'll get another next time we stop by."

"Any particular reason?" she asked nonchalantly, tapping in the coordinates ready for their trip.

"Well they had this bar with a lil' star in the centre. Want to get it to remember another blue beauty." Nebula froze. Kraglin prattled on, unaware. "Ya know, when we go our separate ways an’ stuff. One ya got all the info ya need to go slay ya daddy and don't need me no more."

Nebula was silent a moment. Softly she enquired "Why a star?"

"'Cause your purty just like ‘em."

A growl. "Go to sleep Kraglin, you’re drunk and spewing nonsense."

"M'not, I'm-" He didn't get to finish his sentence as Nebula's fist connected with his skull. He slumped, bottle clattering to the floor and spilling brown liquid beneath his chair.

Nebula huffed. She righted him, tucking his arms into the seat and zipping his jumpsuit back up to the neck.

"Stupid ravager, you won't need a dumb piecing to remember me by." She graced his implant to a gentle pat. “I’m not going anywhere."


End file.
